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BRUCE  GOTTEN 

COLLECTION 

OF 

NORTH     CAROLINE  ANA 


^— miin.'i  *■ '    '■ n— i 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2013 


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- 


ROEERT  THE  HERMIT. 


LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES* 

OF 

ROBERT, 

THE 

HERMIT  OF  MASSACHUSETTS. 

Who  has  lived  14  Years  in  a  Cave,  seclu- 
ded from  human  society. 

comprising, 

An  account  of  his  Birth,  Parentage ,  Sufferings,  aru 
providential  escape  from  unjust  and  cruel  Bond- 
age  in  early  life— and  his  reasons  for  be- 
coming  a  Recluse. 


Taken  from  his  own  mouth,;  and  published  for  h 
benefit. 


PROVIDENCE  : 

Printed  for  h.  trumbull—  1829. 
Price  12  1-2  Cents* 


DISTRICT  of  RHODE  ISLAND,  to    wit; 

BE  it  remembered.  Tbrt  on  the  thirty. first  day 
of  January,  o  e  thousand  eight  hundred  and  twenty 
nine,  a>d  in  the  fifty  third  year  of  the  Independence  of  the 
United  States  of  America,  HKNKY  TRUMBULL  of  said  Dis- 
trict, deposited  in  this  office  the  title  of  a  book,  the  right 
whereof  he  claims  as  author,  in  the  following  words,  t© 
wit. — "  Life  and  Adventures  of  Robert  the  Hermit  of  Massa- 
chusets,  who  has  lived  fourteen  years  in  a  cave  secluded 
feom  human  society,  comprKng  an  account  of  his  Birth,  Pa- 
rentage, Sufferings  and  providential  eecape  from  unjust  and 
cruel  Bondage  in  early  life  :  and  his  reasons  for  becoming  a 
Kecluse.  Taken  from  his  own  mouth  and  published  for  his 
benefit 

In  conformity  to  an  act  of  Congress  of  the  United  States* 
entitled  "  an  act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning  by  se- 
curing the  copies  of  maps,  charts  and  books  to  the  authors 
and  proprietors  of  such  copies  during  the  time  therein  men- 
„  oned,  and  also  to  an  act  entitled  "  an  act  supplementary 
to  an  act  entitled  an  act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning 
by  se  uring  the  copies  of  maps,  charts  and  books,  to  the 
authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies  during  the  time  there- 
in mentioned,  and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  the  arts 
of  designing,engraving  and  etching  historical  and  other  prints. 
Witness,     Benjamin  Cowell, 

CJerk  of  the  Rhode  Island  District^ 


LIFE  and  ADVENTURES 

OF 

ROBERT  the  HERMIT. 

® 


IT  is  a  fact  well  known  to  almost  every  in- 
habitant of  Rhode  Island,  that  on  the  summit  of  a 
Mil,  a  few  rods  east  of  Seekonk  river,  (within  the 
State  of  Massachusetts)  and  about  two  miles  from 
Providence  Bridge,  has  dwelt  for  many  years,  a 
solitary  Hermit,  bearing  the  name  of  Robert — 
and,  although  familiarly  known  to  many  of  the  in- 
habitants  of  Providence,  and  its  vicinity,  for  his 
peaceable  and  agreeable  disposition,  yet,  his  history, 
as  regards  his  birth,  the  cause  of  his  seclusion,  &c. 
has  until  very  recently  remained  a  profound  se- 
cret !  having  carefully  avoided  answering  any  ques- 
tions relative  thereto,  of  hundreds,  who,  prompted 
by  curiosity,  have  been  from  time  to  time  induced  to 
nsit  his  cave,  or  cell — and  although  very  peaceable 
and  civil*  in  his  deportment,  he  has  (with  the  excep- 
tion of  his  occasional  excursions  to  Providence,  and 
he  adjacent  villages,  to  obtain  food  and  necessaries) 
remained  almost  impervious  in  his  retreat. 
Many  and  various  have  been  the  conjectures  of 

<frs 


6  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

(he  most  curious  and  inquisitive  of  the  Rhode  Island 
ers,  (in  the  neighborhood  of  whose  State  he  lives," 
respecting  this  "  strange  and  mysterious  being,"  anc 
while  some  few  have  unjustly  harboured  an  opinio? 
that  he  had  perpetrated  crimes  of  a  henious  nature 
for  which  he  was  doing  penance — others,  have  a 
vowed  in  opposition  to  this,  that  his  whole  deport 
ment  was  so  perfectly  calm,  and  his  countenance  s< 
Serene,  that  it  was  impossible  that  so  fair  a  tenant, 
could  harbour  a  soul  of  darkness  and  criminality. 

The  first  information  which  the  writer  ever  re\ 
ceived  of  this  extraordinary  character,  was  througf 
the  medium  of  one  of  the  Providence  prints,  con1 
taining  some  well  written  remarks  relating  to  him 
and  which  we  have  thought  proper  here  to  republisl 
in  confirmation  of  the  fact  stated,  that,  until  ver 
recently  "  Robert  the  Hermit"  has  uniformly  refus 
ed  to  gratify  the  curiosity  of  any  of  his  visitors,  a 
regarded  his  nativity,  history,  &c. 

From  the  Literary  Cadet  of  June  1826,- 
"  Beneath  a  mountain's  brow,  the  most  remote 
And  inaccessible  by  Shepherds  trod, 
In  a  deep  cave,  dug  by  no  mortals  hands 
An  Hermit  lived, — a  melancholy  man 
Who  was  the  wonder  of  our  wand'ring  swains-r 
Austere  and  lonely — cruel  to  himself 
They  did  report  him— the  cold  earth  his  bed, 
Water  his  drink,  his  food  the  Shepherd's  alms; 
I  went  to  see  him,  and  my  heart  was  touched 
With  reverence  and  with  pity.     Mild  he  spake, 
And  entering  on  discourse,  such  stones  told, 
As  made  me  oft  re-visit  his  sad  cell."      hours'  douglas 

"  On  the  declivity  of  a  hill,  which  overlooks  th< 
pellucid  waters  of  the  Seekonk  River  in  a  rude  eel 
resides  a  Hermit,  whose  history  is  as  inexplicabl 
as  his  aflected  account  of  himself  is  mysterious.  Hj 
name  is  Robert,  but  to  what  country  he  belong? 
ar  what  are  the  inducements  which  have  led  him  t 


ROBERT  THE  HERMIT.  ? 

i 

lead  the  solitary  life  of  a  Hermit,  no  one  knows,  and 
(the  fact  puts  conjecture  at  a  hazard.  Certain  it  is, 
however,  that  he  is  not  a  native  of  New  Flngland ; 
and  that  he  is  not  by  education  or  by  principle  at- 
tached to  our  habits  or  our  institutions  the  whole 
'course  of  his  life,  since  he  has  been  with  us,  ha* 
abundantly  proven. 

,)i  It  is  now  about  eighteen  years,  since  he  first  visi- 
ted us,  and  took  up  his  abode  in  a  thick  pine  grove, 
swhich  threw  its  luxurious  foliage  over  the  brow  of 
^mold's  Hill,  and  from  that  day  to  this,  he  has  care- 
n  fully  avoided  answering  any  questions,  which  might 
filead  to  a  discovery  of  his  history — or  gratify  the  cu- 
riosity of  the  inquirer. 

i  Months,  years  and  days  pass  by  him  unnoticed 
iind  unregarded,  and  it  is  only  on  extraordinary  oc- 
casions, that  he  emerges  from  the  confines  of  his  so- 
atary  hermitage.  In  the  Spring  he  sometimes  oc- 
»«  himself  in  laborious  employment — such  as 
ittending  gardens  for  the  neighborhood  ;  but  so  re- 
gardless is  he  of  the  things  of  this  world,  that  he 
:ares  not  whether  his  labors  are  rewarded  or  not* 
>y  those  who  receive  the  benefits  of  them. 

Unused  to  the  luxuries  or  extravagancies  oflife3 
le  contents  himself  with  the  simplest  food  and  such 
is  the  bountiful  hand  of  nature  supplies.  The  meats 
tnd  intemperate  liquids  of  social  life,  are  unknown 
o  him 

"  But  from  the  mountain's  grassy  side 

A  guiltless  feast  he  brings ; 
A  scrip  with  herbs  and  fruits  supplied, 
i'  And  water  from  the  springs." 

In  summer,  he  cultivates  a  small  lot  of  land,  which 
sie  is  kindly  allowed  to  possess,  by  the  Hon.  Mr. 
Purges,  the  owner  of  the  estate  on  which  the  her- 
bila-e  is  located  ;  but  be  rarely  allows  the  plants  t© 
rrive  at  maturity,  uefore  he  plucks  them  from  the 


g  LIFE  AND  ADVExNTURES  OF 

earth,  and  throws  them  to  the  cattle  that  feed  arouj 
his  lonely  mansion.   What  should   induce  him.to  th* 
destroy   what  he    has  often  been  at  great  labor  > 
cultivate,  he    assigns  no   reason,  nor  can   any   o 
form  a  reasonable  conjecture.   His  cell  is  decoratj 
with  various  shells  and    bones,  and  is    scarcely  c 
pable  of  accommodating  himself  alone;  and  the  It 
niture  with  which   it  is  supplied,  consists  of  a  stoi 
an  oaken  bench,  on  which  he   reposes,  and  two 
three  pieces  of  broken  delf  ware.   It  is  as  gloomy, 
darkness  and  solitude  can  make   it,  and   appears 
be  admirably  fitted  for  a  misanthrope   and  a   reclu; 

In  winter  he  seldom  emerges  from  his  solita 
mansion,  but  silently  and  patiently  waits  for  time 
introduce  the  vernal  Spring,  and  to  bring  about  tl 
joyful  season,  when  once  more  he  can  rove  arou 
the  adjacent  woodlands  and  meads.  The  rays  of  t 
sun  never  enter  the  portals  of  his  domicil,  ^nd 
mid-day  it  assumes  all  the  darkness  of  mi/j^f 
Content  with  his  situation,  and  at  peace  with 
he  quietly  looks  forward  for  the  arrival  of  that  d, 
when  he  shall  "bid  the  waking  world  good  nigh 
and  find  in  countries  unexplored,  that  happim 
which  life  has  denied   him. 

His  cell  is  surrounded  by  a  thick  set  hed^ 
wrought  of  wild  briars  and  hemlock,  and  disph 
much  ingenuity  and  taste  It  is  in  a  most  roman 
situation,  some  distance  from  any  human  habitati( 
and  not  often  annoyed  by  the  gaze  of  the  curio 
or  the  mischievous  visits  of  the  boys,  for  they 
love  poor  Robert.  It  is  well  worth  the  trouble 
those  who  are  fond  of  the  curious,  and  are  pleas 
with  noticing  the  excentricities  of  frail  mortality 
visit  the  abode  of  'Robert  the  Hermit."  [0^T*T 
preceding  are  the  remarks  alluded  to,  contained 
the  Cadet  of  1826,  and  which  we  doubt  not  w< 
from  the  able  pen  of  the  Editor  of  that  paper,  at 
date  mentioned  I 


ROBERT  THE  HERMIT.  9 

ft  was  not  until  within  a  few  weeks  that  the  writer 
was  induced  to  visit  the  lonely  and  solitary  retreat 
of  <•'•  poor  Robert,"— by  the   urgent   solicitations   of 
a  few  who  had   long  known    him,  and   not   without 
hopes  that  he  might  possibly   be   prevailed    upon  to 
disclose  some   of  the  most   extraordinary   incidents 
of  his  life,  for  publication,  if  assured  that  he  was  to 
reap  a  benefit  thereby  (for  great  indeed  are  his  pre- 
sent wants,)  the  writer  was  induced  to  visit  him  for 
this  purpose.      It  was  about  1  \  o'clock   in  the   fore- 
noon when  1  reached  his  habitation,  and  on   remov- 
ing; a  small  rough   board  supported   by   a   leathern 
hinge,  and  which  closed  the  only  passage  to  his  dark 
and  gloomy  cell,  I  discovered  him  in  about  the  cen- 
tre, seated  on  a  wooden  block,  in  an  apparent   rev- 
erie. 

I   accosted  him  in  a  friendly  manner,  and  he  with 
much  civility,  bid  me  welcome  ;  and  as  if  willing  to 
pmte&ft  me  to  satisfy  that  curiosity  which  he  no  doubt 
supposed  hao'atuie  prompted  me  (as  it  had  hundreds 
*j{  others)  to  visit  him,  he  with  much  apparent  good 
jiumoir  invited  me  to  enter,  and  accept  of  his  seat, 
when,  as  he  observedr  I  would  have  a  better  oppor- 
tunity to  inspect  the  internal  part  of  his  lonely  hab- 
itation— an  invitation  ©$"  which  I  accepted— and,  af- 
ter making  known  to  htm  the  true  object  of  my  vis- 
it, and  with  assurances  that  it   was  produced  by  the 
most  urgent  solicitations  of  one  or  more  of  his  friendsr 
who  had  expressed,  and  [  believed  sincerely   felt  an 
interest  in  his   welfare,  so  far  at  least  as  to    render 
his  situation  more    comfortable — I    begged    that    he 
would  gratify  me  with  a  brief  narration  of  his  life,  and 
inform  me  wh  it  powerful  cause  had'  arose  to  induce 
him  to  quit  the  pleasures  of  society,  and  consign  his 
days  to  voluntary    seclusions  ?  —  to   winch,    after  a 
consider  able  pause1,  and  with  his  eyes  fixed  steadfast 
«pon  me,  as  if  to  satisfy  himself  that  what  I  had  stated 
B 


f 9  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

was  spoken  in  sincerity,  he  made  the  following  re- 
ply— l4  that  is  a  relation  with  which  1  have  declined 
Indulging  any  one,  as  the  enquiry  seemed  merely 
made  to  gratify  idle  curiosity  ;  but,  as  you  epeak  as 
if  you  could  feel  sympathy  for  distress,  i  will  briefly 
gratify  your  request :  — 

kt  I  was  born  in;  Princeton  (New  Jersey)  in  the 
year  1769  or  '70,  and  was  born,  as  was  my  mother 
(who  was  of  African  descent,)  in  bondage  ;  although 
my  father,  as  has  been  represented  to  me,  was  not 
•nly  a  pure  white  blooded  Englishman,  but  a  gentle- 
man of  considerable  eminence-^!  had  no  brothers 
and  but  one  suter,  who  was  three  years  older  than 
myself;,  but  of  her,  as  of  my  mother,  I  have  but  a 
faint  recollection,  at  I  in  my  infancy  was  included  in 
the  patrimonial  portion  of  my  master's  oldest  daugh- 
ter, on  her  marriage  to  a  Mr.  John  Voorhis,  by 
birth  a  German.  When  but  four  years  of  age  I  wa& 
conveyed  by  my  master  to  Georgetown  (District  of 
Columbia,)  to  which  place  he  removed  with  his  fam- 
ily., and  never  have  I  since  been  enabled  to  learn 
the  fate  of  my  poor  mother  or  sister,  whom,  it  is 
not  very  improbable,  death  has  long  since  removed 
from  their  unjust  servitude. 

At  the  age  of  14  or  15,  my  master  apprenticed 
jne  to  a  Shoemaker,  to  obtain  if  possible  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  art  ;  but  making  but  little  proficiency, 
he  again  took  me  upon  his  plantation,  where  my. 
lime  was  mostly,  employed  in  gardening  until  about 
fche  age  of  nineteen.  It  was  at  that  age,  that  I  be- 
came first  acquainted  with  an  agreeable  young  fe- 
male (an  brph.m)  by  the  name  of  Alley  Penning- 
ton, a  native  of  Cecil  county,  (Maryland)— she 
first  expressed  her  attachment  for  me,  and  a  wil- 
lingness to  become  my  partner  for  life,  provided  I 
aould  obtain  my  freedom,  nor  can  I  say  that  I  felt 
less  attachment  for  ene  with  whom  I  was  confide*!! 


ROBERT  THE  HERMIT.  If 

1  could  spend  my  life  agreeably — she  was  indeed 
the  object  or  my  first  love,  a  love  which  can  only 
b*»  extinguished  with  my  existence  ;  and  never  at  any 
period  previous  waft  the  yoke  of  bondage  more  goard- 
ing,  or  did  I  feel  so  sensibly  the  want  of  that  free- 
dom, the  deprivation  of  whichy  was  now  the  only 
barrier  to  my  much  wished  for  union  with  one  I  so 
sincerely  and  tenderly  loved. 

As  my  master  had  uniformly  expressed  an  unwil- 
lingness 10  grant  me  my  freedom,  on  any  other  terms 
than  receiving  a  suitable  compensation  therefor,  my. 
only  alternative  now  to  obtain  it,  was  to  apply  to 
one  with  whom  I  was  most  intimately  acquainted, 
and  to  whom  I  thought  I  could  safely  communicate 
my  desires,  as  he  had  in  more  than  one  instance, 
expressed  m  ch  regard  for  met  and  a  willingness  to 
serve  me — to  him  I  proposed  that  he  should  pay 
to  my  master  the  stipulated  sum  (Fifty  Pounds.)  de- 
manded for  my  freedom,  and  that,  the  bill  of  sale 
dhould  remain  in  his  hands*,  until  such  time  as  I 
should  be  enabled  by  the  fruits  of  my  industry  to 
repay  him,  principal  and  it-t-rest,  and  allow  him  a 
suitable  compensation  therefor  for  his  trouble— to 
this  proposal. he  very  readily  as&ented,  and  not  only 
expressed  his  willingness  but  his  approbation  of  my 
much  desired  union  with  my  beloved  Alley.  My 
request  was  immediately  complied  ,witn,  the  Fifty 
Pounds  were  paid  by  my  good  friend  (as  1  then  sup- 
posed him,)  to  whom  I  was  by  bond  tracsfered  aa 
his  lawful  property,  and  by  whom  I  was  given  to 
understand  that  i  might  then  seek  business  for  my- 
self, and  turn  my  attention  to  any  that  1  should  con- 
ceive the  most  profitable,  and  consider  myself  under 
no  other  bondage  than  as  a  debtor,  to  the  amount 
paid  for  my  freedom.  The  name  of  one  who  had 
manifested  so  much  what  I  supposed  real  and  disin- 
terested friendship  for  me,  but  who  finally  proveci 


1%  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

the  author  of  almost  all  the  wretchedness,  which  I 
have  since  endured,  ought  not  to  be  concealed — it 
was  James  Bevens. 

Feeling  myself  now  almost  a  free  man,  I  did  not,, 
as  may  be  supposed,  suffer  many  hours  to  elapse 
before  I  hastened  to  bear  the  joyful  tidings  of  my 
good  fortune,  to  one,  who,  as  I  had  anticipated,  re- 
ceived it  with  unfeigned  demonstrations  of  joy  •,  and 
who,  so  far  from  exhibiting  an  unwillingness  to  full- 
iill  her  promise,  yielded  her  hand  without  reluctance 
or  distrust— we  were  married,  lawfully  married,  and 
more  than  three  years  of  domestic  felicity  passed  a- 
way,  without  a  misfortune  to  ruffle  our  repose — in 
the  course  of  which  the  Almighty  had  not  only  been 
pleased  to  bless  us  with  two  children,  bat  my- 
self with'  so  great  a  share  of  good  health,  as  to 
have  enabled  me  by  my  industry,  to  earn  and  re- 
fund a  very  considerable  portion  of  the  fifty  pounds 
paid  by  Bevins  for  my  freedom — of  these  sums  1  hr>d 
neither  made  any  charge,  or  took  anj  recpipts—  <n 
this  I  was  brought  to  see  my  error,  but,  alas  1  too 
late. 

Bevins,  as  I  have  stated,  was  a  man  in  whom  I 
had  placed  implicit  confidence,  and  indeed  until  the- 
period  mentioned,  supposed  him,  as  regarded  my- 
self, incapable  of  any  thing  dishonorable,  much  less 
of  being  the  author  of  as  great  an  act  of  cruelty  and 
injustice,  as  ever  was  recorded  in  the  catalogue  of 
human  depravity  ! 

It  was  late  one  evening,  an  evening  never  to  be 
forgotten  by  me,  while  sitting  in  the  midst  of  my 
innocent  and  beloved  family,  amused  with  the  prat- 
tle of  my  eldest  child,  and  enjoying  all  the  felicity 
which  conjugal  love  and  parental  affection  are  pro* 
ductive  of,  that  this  monster  in  human  shape  (BevinsJ 
accompanied  by  another,  entered,  seized  and  pinion- 
ed me  L  and  gave  me  to  understand  that  i  was  intead- 


ROBERT  THE  HERMIT.  |§ 

ed  for  a  Southern  market ! !  It  is  impossible  for  me 
to  describe  my  feelings  or  those  of  my  poor  distract- 
ed wife,  at  that  moment !  it  was  in  vain  that  1  in- 
treated,  in  vain  that  1  represented  to  Bevms  that  he 
bad  already  received  a  very  great  proportion  of  the 
sum  paid  for  my  freedom — to  which  the  ruffian  made 
no  other  reply,  than  pronouncing  me  a  liar,  dragged 
me  like  a  felon  from  my  peaceable  domicil — from 
my  beloved  family — whose  shrieks  would  have  pier- 
oed  the  heart  of  any  one  but  a  wretch  like  himself! 

In  the  most  secret  manner,  at  eleven  at  night,  I 
was  huiried  on  board  of  a  Schooner,  where  addition- 
al miseries  awaited  me ! — for  fear  of  an  escape,  I 
found  that  irons  were  to  be  substituted  for  the  ropes 
with  which  they  had  bound  me  !  and  whiie  a  person 
was  employed  in  riveting  them,  I  improved  the  op- 
portunity, which  I  thought  proDdbly  would  be  the 
last,  to  address  the  author  of  my  miseries,  in  words 
nearly  as  follows  : — "  are  these  the  proofs,  master 
Bevies,  of  the  friendship  which  you  have  professed 
forme!  tell  me  I  pray  you,  what  have  I  done  to 
me.it  such  barbarous  treatment  from  your  hands  ? 
nothing,  no  nothing!  I  have  nothing  wherewith  to  re- 
proach myself  but  my  own  credulity  !'* — to  this  he 
made  no  reply  ;  shackled  and  handcuffed,  I  was  pre» 
•ipitated  into  the  hold  of  the  schooner,  by  the  mo- 
tion of  which  I  perceived  was  soon  under  way,  and 
bearing  me  I  knew  not  whither!  So  far  from  feel- 
ing an  incl  matron  to  sleep,  it  was  to  me  a  night  of 
inconceivable  wretchedness  I  could  here  nothing 
but  the  shrieks  of  my  poor  disconsolate  wife,  and 
the  moan?  of  her  helpless  children!  indeed  such 
was  ray  imagination — alas !  he  alone  can  have  a  just 
•onception  of  my  feelings  who  may  have  been  pla- 
ted in  a  similar  situation,  if  such  a  person  can  be 
found  on  earth. 

In  three  days  (during  which  n©  other  food   was 


H  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

allowed  me  but  a  few  pounds  of  mouldy  bread)  the 
Schooner  reached  the  port  of  her  destination — 
Charleston,  S.  C. — and  from  which,  without  being 
relieved  of  my  irons,  I  was  conveyed  to  and  lodged 
in  prison,  where  I  was  suffered  to  remain  in  soli- 
tude five  days— from  thence  I  was  conducted  to  a 
place  expressly  appropriated  to  the  sale  of  hum/m 
beings  !  where,  like  the  meanest  animal  of  the  brute 
creation,  I  was  disposed  of  ai  public  auction  to  the 
♦highest  bidder  S 

Resolved  on  my  liberty,  and  that  I  would  not  let 
pass  unimproved  the  first  opportunity  that  should 
present,  to  regain  it,  I  did  not  remain  with  my  pur- 
chaser long  enough  to  learn  his  name  or  the  pike 
paid  for  me  ;  who,  to  win  my  affections,  and  the 
better  to  reconcile  me  to  my  situation,  professed 
snuch  regard  for  me  and  made  many  fair  promises, 
(not  one  of  which  it  is  probable  he  ever  intended  to 
perform,)  and  the  better  to  deceive  me,  voluntarily 
granted  me  the  indulgence  to  walk  a  few  hours  un- 
guarded and  unattended  about  the  city  ;  supposing, 
no  doubt,  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  re- 
gain my  liberty,  as  no  coloured  person  was  alln,vfc.J 
to  proceed  beyond  the  limits  of  the  city,  without 
a  we-ll  authenticated  pass — of  this  1  was  not  ignor- 
ant, and  therefore  sought  other  and  less  dangerous 
means  to  escape,  for  L  felt  that  death  in  its  worst 
forms  would  be  far  preferable  to  slavery. 

I  carlessly  strolled  about  the  wharves  among  the 
shipping,  where  I  at  length  was  so  fortunate  as  to 
find  a  Sloop  bound  direct  to  Philadelphia — she  had 
completed  her  lading,  her  sails  were  loosed  and  ev- 
ery preparation  made  to  haul  immediately  into  the, 
stream— watching  a  favourable  opportunity,  while 
the  hands  were  employed  forward  1  unperceived 
ascended  and  secreted  myself  between  two  casks  in 
fke  hold — all  beneath  was  «oon  well  secured  by  the 


ROBERT  THE  HERMIT.  1& 

batches,  and  I  had  the  satisfaction  to  find  myself  in 
Sees  than  three  hours,  from  the  time  >hat  I  was  pur- 
chased like  a  bale  of  goods  at  auction,  stowed  snug- 
ly away,  and  with  fair  prospecis  of  regaining  my 
liberty!  it  was  at  that  moment  that  a  secret  joy 
diffused  itself  through  my  soul— I  found  unexpected 
consolation  and  fortitude,  produced  by  a  firm  per- 
suasion that  by  the  assistance  of  a  divine  provi- 
dence   I  should  accomplish  my  deliverance. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day  from  that 
of  our  departure,  we  were  safely  moored  along  side 
of  one  of  the  Philadelphia  wharves.  During  the 
passage  of  three  days  and  one  night  my  only  nour- 
ishment had  been  about  one  gill  of  spirits,  contain- 
ed in  a  small  viol,  with  which  I  occasionally  moist- 
ened my  lips,  for  on  the  third  day  my  thirst  had 
become  intolerable. 

I  was  as  fortunate  in  leaving  the  sloop  unsuspect^ 
ed  or  undiscovered,  as  I  had  been  in  secreting  my- 
self on  board  of  her,  and  as  soon  as  safely  on  shore, 
my  first  object  was  to  procure  lodgings  and  some- 
thing to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  nature,  at  a  boarding 
house  for  seamen.  Representing  myself  as  belong- 
ing to  a  coaster,  I  was  not  suspected  as  any  other 
than  a  free  man.  As  I  had  heard  much  of  the  hos- 
pitality of  the  Quakers  (or  Friends,)  and  as  a  class 
who  were  the  zealous  advocates  for  the  emancipa- 
tion of  their  fellow  beings  in  bondage,  to  one  of 
them,  on  the  very  day  of  my  arrival,  I  made  my 
situation  known,  concealing  nothing  ;  and  begged  that 
he  would  interest  himself  so  far  in  my  behalf  as  to 
advise  me  what  I  had  best  do,  to  secure  my  per- 
son from  further  arrest  by  unjust  claimants,  and  to 
restore  to  me  my  bereaved  and  afflicted  family. 

The  good  man  listened  with  much  apparent  at- 
tention to  my  story,  and  seemed  somewhat  affected 
thereby,  and  so  far  from   exhibiting  any   disposition 


Id  LIFE  AN»  ADTENTURES  OF 

to  discredit  any  part  of  it,  presented  me  with  halt 
a  crown,  and  requested  me  to  call  on  him  in  the 
forenoon  of  the  next  day,  by  which  time  (as  he  said) 
he  would  have  an  opportunity  to  consult  some  of  h»$ 
brethren,  by  whom  he  thought  steps  would  be  taken 
to  redress  my  wrongs— nor  have  I  any  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  he  promised  more  than  he  intended  to 
perform,  and  I  believe  that  by  these  good  people  I 
should  have  been  effectually  freed  from  the  shackles 
©f  slavery,  had  not  another  melancholLy  instance  of 
adverse  fortune,  placed  me  in  a  situation  not  to  com- 
ply with  his  request.  Returning  to  my  lodgings  in 
She  evening,  1  was  accused  (jocosly,  as  1  at  first  sup- 
posed) by  the  inmates  of  the  house,  of  being  a  run- 
away  slave  !  still  however  persisting  in  my  former. 
Story,  that  I  was  free  and  belonged  to  a  coaster,  but 
being  unable  to  reply  satisfactorily  to  their  enquiries,. 
s&  to  the  name  and  place  oFdestinatton  of  the  vessel, 
I  was  committed  to  prison  and  advertized  as  a  sus- 
pected runaway. 

By  what  means  my  pretended  master  obtained  in- 
formation  of  my  situation,  I  could  never  learn,  for 
after  nine  days  close  confinement  in  prison  (during 
which  I  was  not  permitted  to  communicate  with  any 
one  but  the  goater)  I  was  once  more  strongly  ironed 
and  delivered  over  to  the  charge  of  the  captain  of  a 
Charleston  packet— to  which  port  as  it  proved  she 
was  bound  direct.  It  will  not  be  necessary  to  in- 
form you  that  my  treatment  was  tio  better  than  what 
I  had  received  on  ray  late  passage  from  Maryland 
—nor  do  I  know  that  I  could  have  reasonably  expect- 
ed any  better,  from  those  who  probably  considered 
coloured  people  as  free  from  feelings  as  understand- 
ings. As  soon  as  we  reached  Charleston,  I  was 
conducted  to  and  delivered  over  to  my  reputed  mas- 
ter, who  had  however  in  my  absence,  as  it  appear- 
ed, become  somewhat  sick  of  his  purchase,,  for  tJfcfe 


ROBERT  THE  HERMIT,  |f 

laext  day  I  was  with  two  or  three  others  similarly  sit- 
uated, exposed  to  sale  at   public  auction. 

The  person  by  whom  I  was  next  purchased,  was 
a  Dr.  Peter  Fersue,  a  man  of  considerable  wealth, 
and  who,  had  it  not  been  obtained  by  the  <oils  of  his 
fellow  creatures  in  bondage,  might  have  passed  for 
one  not  entirely  devoid  of  humanity  ;  for  1  must  say*, 
injustice  to  him,  that  it  was  remarked  that  those, 
who  were  held  in  bondage  by  him,  were  treated 
with  less  severity  than  those  possessed  by  some  of* 
his  neighbors.  Perceiving  that  I  was  not  a  litila 
dissatisfied  with  my  situation,  and  that  I  possessed 
a  partial  knowledge  of  letters  (which  I  had  acquir- 
ed previous  to  my  marriage)  through  fear  probably 
that  I  might  instill  into  the  minds  of  some  of  oiv 
fellow  slaves,  principles,  which  might  ultimately 
prove  to  his  disadvantage,  I  was  selected  as  a  house 
servant,  and  consequently  exempted  from  many  of' 
the  privations  to  which  the  other  slaves  were  ex- 
posed—yet, I  became  no  more  reconciled  to  my 
situation,  nor  felt  any  degree  of  attachment  for  him, 
as  I  could  never  harbour  a  belief  but  that  hjim*n  be- 
ings, whatever  might  be  their  complexion,  were  all 
created  equally  free  ;  and  that  it  was  in  direct  con- 
tradiction to  the  will  of  the  Supreme  Being,  that 
one  portion  of  his  creatures  should  be  held  in  bond- 
age by  another*  for  no  other  fault  than  a  difference 
of  complexion  ! — and,  I  must  confess,  that  my  bo- 
som could  not  but  swell  with  indignation,  when  pla- 
oed  in  a  situation  to  witness  the  severity  with  which 
many  of  my  fellow  companions  in  bondage,  at  the 
South,  were  treated — worn  out  by  constant  fatigue, 
clad  in  rags,  branded  with  lashes,  and  otherway- 
treated  more  like  brutes  than  human  beings  ! 

Freedom,  the  gift  of  Heaven,  was  too  highly 
prized  by  me,  to  permit  any  thing  of  less  impor- 
tance to  occupy   my  mind — but,  great  as   were  mr 


18  LIFE  ANB  ADVENTURES  OF 

desires  to  enjoy  it,  with  him  by  whom  I  was  wrong*' 
fully  claimed,  I  spent  eighteen  months  in  servitude, 
before  an  opportunity  presented  to  obtain  it.  The 
means  by  which  I  was  finally  enabled  to  effect  my 
escape,  were  very  similar  to  those  which  I  had 
practiced  in  my  last  attempt — i  succeeded  in  secret- 
ing myseif  in  the  hold  of  a  brig  ready  laden,  and 
bound  direct  to  Boston  (Massachusetts,)  and  without 
an  opportunity  to  provide  myself  witn  a  drop  of 
water,  or  a  morsel  af  food  of  any  kind  on  which 
to  subsist  during  the  passage. 

Although  the  place  of  my  concealment  afforded 
nothing  better  on  which  to  repose  than  a  water  cask^ 
yet  I  found  my  birth  not  so  uncomfortable  as  one 
would  naturally  imagine,  and  I  was  enabled  to  en- 
dure the  calls  of  hunger  and  thirst,  until  the  close 
of  the  fifth  day  from  that  of  our  departure,  when 
the  latter  became  too  oppressive  to  be  longer  en- 
dured— had  I  then  possessed  the  wealth  of  the  fn« 
dias,  it  appeared  to  me,  that  I  should  have  made  a 
willing  exchange  for  a  draught  of  sweet  water  * 
not  however  until  nearly  deprived  of  my  senses,  did 
I  feel  willing  to  make  my  situation  known  to  those 
on  board — on  the  reflection,  that  should  it  even  cost 
me  my  life,  that  an  instantanious  death  would  be  pre- 
ferable to  a  lingering  one,  I  seized  a  fragment  of 
a  hoop,  with  which  I  crawled  to  and  commenced 
thumping  upon  a  beam  near  the  hatchway,  ac  the 
same  time  hallooing  as  loud  as  the  strength  of  my 
lungs  would  admit  of — soon  I  was  heard  by  the  hands 
on  deck,  and  while  some  broke  out  in  exclamations 
of  wonder  and  surprize,  others  ran  affrighted  to  the 
cabin,  to  proclaim  to  the  captain  the  fact  that  "  the 
brig  was  most  certainly  haunted,  and  had  become  the 
habitation  of  bodiless  spirits,  as  one  or  more  were 
at  that  moment  crying  out  lamentably  in  the  hold  \ty 
•^-bodiless  spirits  they  no  doubt  concluded  they  must 


ROBERT  THE  HERMIT.  1$ 

be,  for  the  hatches  being  so  well  secured  with  a  tar» 
polin,  none  other,  as  they  suppused,  could  have  ob- 
tained access. 

The  captain  less  superstitiously  inclined,  order- 
ed the  hatches  to  be  immediate lv  raised,  but  so  great 
was  the  terroui  of  the  sailors,  that  il  was  som«  lime 
before  any  could  be  found  of  sufficient  courage  to  o- 
bey. 

The  hatches  were  no  sooner  removed  than  I  pre- 
sented myself  to  their  view,  tumbling  thrni^h  fear, 
pale  as  death,  and  with  hardly  s  length  t^fl)  lent  10 
Support  myself! — my  appeal  anr.e  was  indeed  -uch  as 
almost  to  confirm  the  superstitious  opinion  of  the 
sailors,  that  the  brig  must  certainly  bi  hannied, 
for  in  me  they  beheld,  a?  they  supposed,  n  ught 
but  an  apparition  !  the  ghost,  probably,  of  some  unfor- 
tunate shipmate,  who  on  a  former  voyage  tor  some 
trifling  offence,  had  been  privately  and  wickedly  pre- 
fjpitated  from  the  brig's  deck  ,nto  the  ocean  ! — such 
indeed  is  the  weakness  and  superstition  peculiar  tfe 
many  of  that  class  of  people,  who  follow  the  seas 
for  a  livelihood 

Those  on  board  became  however  a  little  less  in- 
timidated, when  I  assured  them  that  I  intended  them 
no  harm,  and  was  t:o  other  than  one  of  the  most  un- 
fortuaate  ad  miserable  of  human  beings,  who  had 
sought  that  means  to  escape  from  unjust  and  cruel 
bondage  !  and  then  briefly  related  to  them,  at  what 
time  and  in  what  manner  1  succeeded  in  secreting 
myself  unnoticed  in  the  brig's  hold  ;  where  it  was 
my  intention  to  have  remained,  if  possible,  until  her. 
arrival  at  tie  port  of  her  destination — and  concluded 
with  begging  them  for  mercy's  sake,  to  grant  me  a 
bucket  of  ftvsh  water  I  for,  indeed,  such  was  my 
thirst,  that  a  less  quantity  it  appeared  to  me  would 
'have  proved  insufficient  to   have  allayed  it. 

The  captain  (who  very  fortunately  for  me,  pro** 


gg       life  and  adventures  of 

<?d  to  be  a  Quaker,  and  with  all  the  tender  feeling  pen 
culiar  to  that  excellent  class  of  people)  gave  orders 
to  his  men  to  treat  me  with  kindness,  and  to  assist 
me  on  deck,  for  I  had  new  become  so  weak  and  e- 
maciated  by  long  fasting,  that  1  was  scarcely  able 
to  help  myself.  "  I  hy  wants  shall  be  supplied  (said 
the  good  captain,  addressing  himself  to  me)  but  suck 
is  thy  present  weakness,  that  thee  must  eat  and  drink 
sparingly,  or  it  ma)  be  worse  for  thee  !" — this  man 
was  truly  in  practice,  as  well  as  by  profession,  a 
Christian — for  had  he  been  my  father,  he  could  not 
have  treated  me  with  more  tenderness  and  compas- 
sion—  he  would  allow  me  but;  a  single  gill  of  water 
at  a  draugh,  and  that  quantity  but  twice  in  an  hour, 
although  five  times  that  quantity  would  not  have  sat- 
iated me — and  the  food  allowed  me.  was  apportioned 
accordingly. 

In  two  days  after  we  reached  Boston,  where  I  was 
Sqnded,  with  permiss'on  of  the  captain  to  proceed 
whither  I  pleased  ;  not  however  until  he  had  imprsrt- 
*(J  to  me  sense  friendly  advice,  to  be  cautious  with 
whom  I  associated  on  shore,  and  as  I  valued  my  lib- 
erty, not  to  frequent  such  parts  of  the  town  as  r.as 
inhabited  by  the  most  vicious  and  abandoned  of  the 
human  race — with  which  he  presented  me  with  some 
#hange,  and  bid  me  farewell,  and  never  to  my  knowl» 
edge  have  I  since  had  the  happiness  to  meet  with 
this  good  man  ;  who,  long  'ere  this  has  probably 
been  numbereo  with  the  just,  and  if  so.  is  now  1  trust 
reaping  the  reward  of  his  good  deeds  in  another  and 
feeder  world. 

Unacquainted  then  with  the  laws  of  New-England, 
and  fearful  that  it  might  not  be  safe  to  tarry  a  long 
while  in  a  place  >a  populous  as  Boston,  before  sun- 
set of  the  same  day  I  crossed  the  bridge  leading  f© 
Charlestown,  with  an  intention  of  proceeding  as  far 
«ftst  as  Portland — I  tarried  that  night  at  Lynn,  aiwl 


ROBERT  THE  HERMIT.  ffl 

at  about  10  o'clock  the  next  morning  reached  Salenrj 
where  1  concluded  to  remain  until  the  morning  en- 
suing. I  applied  to  a  boarding  house  for  seamen  for 
some  refreshment,  and  bespoke  lodgings  for  the  nigh^ 
and  in  the  course  of  the  day  met  with  a  gentleman 
who  was  in  quest  of  hands  for  a  voyage  to  India.  As 
my  small  funds  were  now  nearly  exhausted,  I  thought 
this  not  only  a  favourable  opportunity  to  replenish 
them,  but  to  place  myself  beyond  the  reach  of  my 
pretended  masters  of  the  south,  should  they  extend 
their  pursuit  of  me  as  far  east  as  Massachusetts—* 
to  him  I  therefore  offered  myself  for  the  voyage*  and 
was  accepted. 

It  cannot  be  expected  that  I  can  recollect,  or  is 
it  necessary  for  me  to  state  every  minute  circum- 
stance that  attended  me  on  this  voyage,  and  I  will 
only  remark,  that  although  a  fresh  hand,  and  totally 
unacquainted  with  seamanship,  I  succeeded  in  the 
performance  of  my  duty  beyond  my  expectations, 
and  1  believe  not  only  to  the  satisfaction  of  my  offi- 
cers, but  gained  the  esteem  and  good  will  of  my 
shipmates  on  board — in  proof  of  this,  there  is  one 
circumstance  that  1  ought  not  fail  to  mention — when 
about  to  cross  the  line,  where  sailors  generally  cal- 
culate to  receive  a  formal  visit  from  Neptune,  the 
aged  Monarch  of  the  cieep  made  his  appearance  as 
usual,  and  with  little  ceremony  introduced  himself 
©n  board,  and  while  others  (who  had  never  before 
been  honored  with  an  interview  with  his  majesty) 
were  compelled  to  yield  to  the  unpleasant  severities 
of  a  custom  prescribed  by  him,  i  was,  by  the  in- 
tercession of  my  shipmates,  so  "fortunate  as  to  es- 
cape. 

After  an  absence   of   about  fourteen  months,  the 
ship  returned  in  safety  to  Salem,  and  with  the   lose 
I  believe  of  but  one  man— when  discharged,  my  wa- 
ges were  punctually  paid  mef  which  amounted  to  q 
9 


2$         ?jIFE  and  adventures  of 

sum  not  -?  y  much  greater  than  what  I  had  ever  be* 
been  m  possession  of,  but  a  sum  much  more 
iderabk  thau  what  I  once  ever  expected  to  pos- 
sess !— there  was  indeed  as  1  then  thought,  but  one 
i:ug  wanting  to  complete  my  happiness  (to  wit.)  the 
presence  of  my  poor  unfortunate  family  ! — with  this 
money,  thought  1,  how  comfortable  could  I  render 
the  situation  of  my  beloved  Alley,  and  my  not  less 
beloved  children  !  who,  while  1  at  this  moment  have 
enough  and  to  spare,  it  is  not  improbable,  if  living, 
are  enduring  all  the  miseries  that  poverty  and  oppres- 
sion are  productive  of! — reflections  like  these  were 
sufficient  to  depress  my  spirits,  and  to  deprive  me  of 
that  enjoyment,  which  sailors  so  abundantly  partici- 
pate in  on  their  return  from  a  long  voyage  to  their 
favorite  port. 

i  remained  on  shore  but  a  short  time  when  I  ship- 
ped for  a  second  voyage  to  India — and,  would  here 
briefly  state,  without  entering  into  particubis,  that 
from  this  period  for  nine  years,  I  continual  io  sail 
as  a  common  hand  from  the  ports  of  Boston  and  Sa» 
lem,  to  different  ports  in  Europe  and  India — in  which 
time  1  never  once  suffered  shipwreck,  or  met  with 
anv  very  serious  disaster! — it  is  not  improbable  that 
there  are  at  the  present  day.  some  of  my  old  Com- 
manders and  Shipmates  still  living  in  or  about  Boston 
and  Salem,  who  may  have  some  recollection  of 
H  Robert." 

After  my  return  from  my  first  voyage,  I  became 
acquainted  with  and  commenced  board  in  the  family 
of  a  respectable  elderly  widow  woman,  who  afford- 
ed decent  fare,  although  in  very  moderate  circum- 
stances— the  family  was  composed  of  the  old  ladjL 
and  three  daughters,  of  the  ages  of  eighteen,  twen- 
ty-one and  twenty-tive — it  was  their  house  that  I 
continued  to  '.'  hail"  as  my  home,  whenever  I  re« 
tarued  to  port,  and  so  long  as  I  remained  on  shore  ; 


ROBERT  THE  HERMIT.  23 

and,  almost  destitute  as  I  was  at  this  time  of  other 
friends,  it  is  not,  as  I  deem  it,  very  extraordinary 
thai  I  should  feel  more  than  a  common  degree  of 
regard  and  attachment  for  the  family,  and  that  that 
attachment  shouid  finally  lead  to  a  greater  intimacy 
—this  was  indeed  the  case,  and  on  my  return  from 
my  second  voyage,  1  entered  into  the  bands  of  matri- 
mony with  one  of  the  daughters — the  marriage  cere- 
monies were  performed  by  a  Justice  Putnam,  of 
Danvers.  Here,  in  justification  of  myself,  for  having 
•onsented  to  become  the  husband  of  another,  when 
there  wis  a  possibility  of  my  first  wife  being  alive, 
I  must  state  that  there  were  two  great  inducements— 
sne,  that  I  was  strongly  urged  so  to  do  by  those  who 
undoubtedly  had  authority  to  use  compulsory  means 
had  I  declined-— and  the  other,  that  I  had  now  given 
up  all  hopes  and  expectations  of  ever  meeting  a- 
gain  in  this  world,  her,  who  was  the  first  object  of 
my  pledged  love. 

The  duy  after  my  marriage  I  rented  a  small  ten- 
•anient,  which  I  gave  my  mother  and  her  daughter* 
liberty  to  occupy  with  my  wife  in  my  absence,  for 
in  thiee  days  after  I  was  once  more  on  my  favor- 
ite element,  bound  to  India — prev  ous  to  my  depar- 
ture however  I  made  ample  provision  for  the  sup- 
port of  my  family,  and  left  a  request  with  the  gen- 
tleman in  whose  employ  I  sailed,  to  allow  them  a 
portion  of  my  wages,  in  my  absence,  which  was 
strictly  complied  with.  The  voyage  proved  as  usu- 
al prosperous,  and  on  my  return  was  received  by 
my  friends,  not  only  with  the  most  lively  demon- 
strations of  joy,  but  with  the  tidings  that  I  rud  in 
my  absence,  for  the  third  time,  become   a  father. 

f  remained  on  shore  about  three  months,  and 
such  was  the  harmony  that  prevailed  between  us, 
and  such  the  kind  treatment  that  I  received  from 
my  companion,  that  it  would  have  been  cruel  to 


24  LJFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

have  doubted  her  love  acH  affection  for  me.  At- 
the  expiration  of  the  three  months,  1  once*  more  with 
•onsiderable  reluctance  bid  her  adieu,  and  shipped 
on  board  the  Herald,  capt.  Derby,  bound  from  Bos- 
ton to  Canton  ; — on  this  voyage  I  was  absent  but  a- 
bout  eighteen  months,  from  the  time  that  we  left 
Boston,  which  was  our  port  of  ^ntiy  on  our  return. 

As  soon  as  discharged  I  hastened  to  Salem  with 
the  fruits  of  my  toil,  and  with  fond  expectations  of 
being  welcomed  once  more  to  my  peaceful  home, 
by  one  who  had  so  repeatedly  expressed  her  love 
and  regard  for  me — but,  alas,  sadly  was  I  disappoint- 
ed ! — for  true  it  is,  that  she  who  1  had  supposed  al- 
most an  angel  in  disposition,  had  in  my  absence  beea 
transformed  to  a  demon  !  Cold  indeed  was  the  re- 
ception that  1  met  with---so  far  from  expressing 
or  manifesting  the  least  degree  of  joy  or  satisfaction 
on  the  occasion  (although  I  had  been  between  one 
and  two  years  absent)  I  was  insultingly  told  b}'  her 
that  "  if  I  had  never  returned  she  would  hav^  been 
the  last  to  lament  it  i" 

The  cause  of  this  surpriziDg  and  unexpected  al- 
teration in  one,  whom,  from  the  moment  she  became 
my  wife,  I  had  treated  with  so  much  regard  and  af- 
fection, I  was  never  able  to  learn — although  I  did 
not  and  could  not  feel  that  ardent  affection  for  her,  as 
for  one  who  was  the  object  of  my  first  love,  yet 
my  affection  for  my  child  was  as  great  as  that  for 
my  first  born — for  this  I  felt  willing  to  make  almost 
any  sacrifice,  could  a  reconciliation  have  been  there- 
by effected  ;  but  it  could  not,  and  a  final  seperatio* 
was  the  consequence.  I  continued  in  Salem  eight 
or  ten  months  longer,  supporting  myself  with  the 
fruits  of  what  I  obtained  by  labour  on  board  vessels, 
on  the  wharves,  &c.  and  then,  witb  light  feet  but 
with  a  heavy  heart,  started  in  quest  of  new  friends* 
and  a  new  home,  bending  my  course  southerly,  u 


KCBERT  THE  HERMIT.  98 

I  made  no  longer  tarry  on  the  road  than  to  obtain 
refreshment?,  until  1  reached  Providence  (Rhode 
Island)  where  I  made  application  for,  and  obtained 
employment  for  a  few  days  ;  at  the  conclusion  of 
which,  I  obtained  a  birth  on  board  of  one  of  the 
Packets  plying  between  Providence  and  New-York, 
in  which  business  I  continued  (with  the  exception  of  a 
part  of  the  time  that  I  was  occasionally  employed  on 
shore,)  eight  or  nine  years— some  few  of  the  packet 
masters  with  whom  I  have  sailed,  and  some  for 
whom  I  occasionally  wrought  onshore,  are  still  liv- 

Feeling  a  strong  inclination  once  more  to  visit  the 
shores  of  the  south,  where  I  had  not  onl\  been  un- 
justly deprived  of  my  liberty,  but  where  I  was  in- 
humanly forced  from  a  beloved  wife  and  two  darling 
children,  1  took  passage  (about  fifteen  years  since) 
on  board  a  sloop  for  Baltimore,  and  from  thence  pro- 
ceeded direct  to  Georgetown  As  twenty  years  hwd 
elapsed  since  1  there  left  all  that  I  held  mosi  dear  in  life 
— and  so  great  a  change  had  time  effected  in  my  per- 
sonal appearance,  I  felt  little  or  uo  apprehension  that 
I  should  be  recognized  or  molested  by  any,  if  living* 
who  once  professed  a  claim  to  me.  In  this  I  was 
not  mistaken,  for  indeed  as  i  egarded  the  town,  in- 
habitants, &c.  so  great  a  change  had  the  twenty  years 
produced,  that  1  walked  the  streets  at  mid  day  un- 
noti  ed  and  unknown.  IVIy  old  master  (Voorhis  and 
his  wife  had  been  some  years  dead,  and  the  survi- 
vors of  the  family  had  removed  to  parts  unknown — 
Bevins,  the  wretch  by  whim  1  was  unjustly  depriv- 
ed of  my  liberty,  and  thereby  forever  separated  from 
niy  unfortunate  f-m>i!y,  had  a  few  years  previous 
emigrated  lo  the  west— bu<,  the  principle  object  of 
my  visit  was  not  answered — of  my  wife  and  children 
I  could  obtain  no  satisfactory  information— all  that  t 
Could  learn,  was,  that  soon  after  my  disappearance* 
E 


36  TJFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

their  sufferings  and  deprivations  became  so  great,  ths* 
my  poor  wife  in  a  fit  of  desparation.as  was  supposed* 
put  an  end  to  her  existence,  and  that  her  helpless 
children  did  not  long  survive  hei  ! — this  was  enough  f 
yea  more  than  enough,  to  fill  to  the  brim  the  bitter 
cup  of  my  afflictions  ! — afflictions  which  had  more  or 
less  attended  me  through  life  ! — I  then  fclt  but  little 
desire  to  live,  as  there  was  nothing  then  remaining 
to  attach  me  to  this  world — and  it  was  at  that  moment 
that  I  formed  the  determination  to  retire  from  it— 
to  become  a  recluse,  and  mingie  thereafter  as  little 
as  possible  with  human  society. 

With  this  determination  I  returned  direct  to  Rhode 
Island,  and  soon  after  selected  a  retired  spot  well 
suited  to  my  purpose,  being  an  extreme  point  of 
uninhabited  land  (Fox  Point)  situated  about  one  mile 
south  of  Providence  bridge — there  I  built  me  a  hut 
and  dwelt  peaceably  therein  for  several  years,  and 
until  annoyed  and  discommoded  by  the  youth  of  the 
town,  and  by  labourers  employed  in  levelling  the 
hill  in  the  neighborhood  of  my  dwelling — I  then  ap- 
plied to  and  obtained  the  consent  of  the  gentleman 
(Hon.  Tristam  Burgiss)  to  whom  the  land  belongs, 
to  build  this  hut,  and  permission  to  improve  the  spot 
of  ground  enclosed  during  my  life — here  in  solitude  I 
have  dwelt  more  than  six  years  once  or  twice  a  week 
(and  sometimes  oftener;  I  leave  my  recess,  cross  o- 
ver  the  bridge  into  Providence,  converse  a  little 
with  those  with  whom  I  have  become  acquainted, 
obtain  a  few  necessaries,  and  return  again  well  sat- 
isfied to  my  peaceable  dwelling." 

Here  Robert  concluded  his  narrative,  and  which 
the  writer,  with  very  little  variation,  recorded  as  he 
received*  it  from  his  own  lips— in  dates,  Robert  may 
not  have  been  perfectly  correct,  as  he  does  not  pro- 
fess to  be  very  positive  as  to  his  exact  age — but,  in 


IIOBERT  THE  HERMIT.  21 

«very  other  particular,  not  a  doubt  remains  on  the 
mind  of  the  writer  but  that  Robert  (according  to 
his  best  recollection)  uadeviatingly  related  facts  as 
they  occurred— the  writer  thinks  that  he  may  safely 
draw  this  conclusion,  from  the  circumstance  of  hav- 
ing visited  him  three  days  successively,  and  that  his 
replies  to  the  most  6trict  enquiries  on  the  third  day, 
agreed  perfectly  with  the  particulars  of  his  narration 
on  the  first  and  second— and  as  he  has  heretofore 
manifested  an  unwillingness  to  disclose  to  any  one 
the  secret  of  his  adventures,  it  is  not  probable  that 
he  formed  and  committed  to  memory  a  story  with 
which  to  deceive  the  public,  and  in  which  there  is 
not  a  word  of  truth — no,  those  who  are  best  ac- 
quainted with  "  poor  artless  Robert"  know  him  in- 
capable of  such  a  piece  of  deception. 

Robert,  is  apparently  about  60  years  of  age,  a 
little  short  of  six  feet  in  height,  inclinea  to  corpu- 
lency, his  features  perfectly  regular,  and  of  a  com- 
plexion but  a  shade  or  two  darker  than  that  of  many 
~wiio  profess  to  be  and  pass  for  whites — in  his  early 
years  he  states  that  it  was  much  more  fair,  but  of 
Lte  years  having  been  so  much  exposed  to  the  smoke 
of  his  cell,  has  become  mnch  changed— the  lower 
part  of  his  face  is  covered  with  a  thick  and  curly 
beard,  of  a  jet  black,  and  of  uncommon  length — his 
garments  (or  many  of  them)  are  of  his  own  manu- 
facture, and  whenever  a  breach  appears  in  any  one 
article,  it  is  either  closed  by  him  in  a  bungling 
manner,  tvith  needle  and  twine,  or  a  patch  is  appli- 
ed without  regard  to  the  quality  or  colour  of  the 
cloth.  The  tattered  surtout  coat  commonly  worn  by 
him,  in  his  excursions  abroad  in  winter,  in  imitation 
of  the  military,  he  has  fancifully  faced  with  red, 
in  which  (with  a  cap  of  the  same  cloth  and  with  his 
Song  beard)  it  would  not  be  very  surprizing  if  he 
fhould  sometimes  be  viewed  by  strangers,  as  s  cme 


38  LIFE  AND   ADVENTURES.  OF 

distinguished  embassador  from  the  court  of  Tom- 
buctoo,  or  one  of  the  loyal  subjects  of  the  Grand 
Seniour,  clad  in  the  military  costume  of  his  coun* 
try.— [Q$-  See  Frontispiece .'] 

Robert  is  remarkab  y  abstemious  and  otherwise 
aorrect  in  his  habits — never  known  to  he  gnilty  of 
profanity— is  civil  and  agreeable  in  his  manners,  po- 
lite  and  condescending  to  all  who  visit  him,  and  al- 
way  willing  to  gratify  the  curiosity  of  such  as  feel 
disposed  to  inspect  the  internal  part  of  his  cell-  and 
ever  grateful  for  presents  made  him.  Heappears 
perfectly  reconciled  to  and  satisfied  with  his  retired 
situation,  and  on  the  writer's  expressing  some  sur- 
prize thai  h£  snouid  prefer  a  seciuded'life,  to  that 
©f  the  enjoyment  of  society,  he  observed  that  he 
had  been  too  long  the  subject  of  the  frowns  and  per- 
secutions of  a  portion  of  his  fellow  beings,  to  derive 
that  pleasure  and  satisfaction  from  their  society  which 
the  less  unfortunate  might   naturally  enjoy. 

The  walls  of  his  cave  or  cell,  are  constructed 
principally  of  round  stones,  of  inconsiderable  size 
rudely  thrown  together,  and  externally  have  as  much 
the  appearance  of  being  the  produce  of  nature  as  of 
art ;  and  although  they  form  a  square  of  thirty  or 
forty  feet  in  circumference,  yet  are  so  thick  and 
massy,  as  to  enclose  only  a  single  apartment  of  not 
sufficient  size  to  contain  more  than  two  or  three 
persons  at  a  time,  and  so  low  as  not  to  admit  of  their 
standing  erect,  and  indeed  is  in  every  respect  of 
much  less  comfortable  construction  than  many  of  our 
pig  pens  ! — about  the  centre  there  is  a  6re  place 
rudely  formed,  from  which  proceeds  a  fiue  in  form 
of  a  chimney — and  at  the  extreme  end  of  his  cell 
Robert  has  constructed  a  birth  or  bunk,  in  which, 
filled  with  rags  and  straw,  he  reposes  at  night — 
beside  the  fire  place  stands  a  block,  detached  from 
*he  batt  of  an  oak?  which  not  only  serve*  him  for 


ROBERT  THE  HERMIT.  20 

i  sc.it  and  table,  but  being  partly  hollow,  inverted, 
for  a  morter,  in  which  he  occasionally  pounds  his 
corn,  and  of  which  when  sufficiently  refined,  be  man- 
ufactures his  bread— in  cooking  utensils  Robert  is 
quite  deficient-  the  one  half  of  an  iron  pot  is  the 
only  article  made  use  of  by  him,  in  which  he  pre- 
pares his  food  — a  small  piece  of  iron  hoop  serves 
him  for  a  knife,  and  a  few  articles  of  damaged  delf 
ware,  and  an  old  sea  bucket,  for  the  conveyance  of 
water  from  a  neighboring  spnng.  are  nearly  the 
whole  contents  of  his  wretched  hovel  ! — the  materi- 
als of  which  the  roof  is  constructed,  are  similar  to 
those  which  compose  the  walls  of  his  cell  ;  and  al- 
though of  many  tons  in  weight,  is  altogether  sup- 
ported by  a  few  slender  half  decayed  props,  on  the 
Strength  of  which  depends  the  life  of  poor  Robert,, 
should  thev  fail,  without  the  possibility  of  an  escape, 
his  hut  would  instantaniously  become  his  grave  ! — 
It  is  to  obtain  for  him  a  more  safe  and  convenient 
habitation,  that  has  induced  the  author  to  issue  this 
work,  a  great  proportion  of  the  profits  of  which 
will  be  devoted  to  that  purpose. 

To  his  gloomy  cell  there  are  but  one  or  two  aper- 
tures or  loophole*,  for  the  admission  of  light  which 
in  winter  are  completely  closed  (as  is  every  crack 
and  crevice)  with  seaweed-^-this  renders  the  apart- 
ment still  more  dark  and  gloomy  than  it  otherwise 
would  be,  as  when  the  door  is  closed  to  expel  the 
cold,  Robert  remains  within,  day  and  night,  in  almost 
total  darkness.  In  summer  Robert  employs  a  con- 
siderable portion  of  his  time  in  the  cultivation  of  a 
small  spot  of  ground,  contiguous  to  his  hut,  of  7  or 
8  rods  square,  which  he  has  inclosed  in  an  ingenious 
manner  with  small  twigs  and  interwoven  branches  of 
hemlock  and  juniper — the  soil  is  so  extremely  bar- 
ren and  unproductive,  that  it  seldom  produces  an- 
nually more  than  three  ox  four  bushels  of  potatoes.. 


36  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

a  perk  or  two  of  corn,  and  a  few  quarts  of  beans  ! — 
yet  with  this  small  Top,  Robert  is  apparently  bet- 
ter satisfied  and  more  thankful  than  many,  whose  in- 
satiable thirst  for  worldly  gain,  leads  them,  not  to  an 
acknowledgment  of  gratitude  due  the  Supreme  Au- 
thor of  all  good  gifts,  but  rather  (in  imitation  of  the 
one  of  whom  we  read)  to  most  bitter  complaints,  that 
their  barns  are  not  of  sufficient  size  to  contain  their 
abundant  ciops  1 

Having  been  told  that  Robert  devoted  a  portion  of 
his  time  to  reading,  I  offered  to  present  him  with 
a  Bible,  and  some  religious  Tracts,  for  which  he  ap- 
peared grateful,  but  informed  me  that  he  was  already 
in  possession  of  both — the  gift  of  a  pious  lady  of 
Providence— which  led  me  to  make  some  enquiries  as 
regarded  his  religious  sentiments — his  opinion  of  the 
existence  of  a  Supreme  Being — of  the  immortality 
of  the  soul — of  future  rewards  and  punishments,  &c, 
—to  which  he  unhesitatingly  replied,  that  he  never 
doubted  the  existence  of  a  Supreme  Being,  from  . 
whom  although  invisible  to  us,  nothing  could  be 
eonoealed  and  to  wThom  he  believed  we  were  all  ac- 
countable beings,  and  would  hereafter  receive  re- 
wards or  punishments  according  to  the  deeds  of  the 
body — from  this  belief  he  said  he  derived  great  con- 
solation— for,  although  great  bad  been  his  trials  and 
troubles  in  this  world,  he  was  not  without  a  hope, 
that  by  complying  with  the  terms  of  the  gospel  of  a 
blessed  Redeemer,  he  might  be  permitted  in  another 
to  participate  in  those  eternal  enjoyments  which 
were  the  promised  rewards  of  the  faithful. 

Humble  a^d  retired  as  maybe  the  situation  of 
Robert,  if  such  truly  are  his  sentiments,  and  such  his 
wet)  grounded  hopes,  altho'  his  bed  may  be  straw,  and 
his  table  a  block — he  must  be  acknowledged  a  hap- 
py man  —and,  indeed,  infinitely  more  so  than  when 
unjustly  held  in  bondage,  and  compelled  to  yield  to 
the  commands  of  a  tyrannical  task-master— and  forv 


ROBERT  THE  HERMIT.  Si 

iunaie  no  doubt  would  thousands  of  bis  enslaved  fel- 
low beings  at  the  south,  conceive  themselves,  if  they 
were  privileged  like  him,  to  breathe  the  pure  air 
of  freedom,  even  in  an  hovel  more  gloomy  and 
wretched,  if  possible,  than  the  one  which  he  now 
claims  as   his  own. 

As  the  narrator  has  imputed  a  great  portion  of  his 
sufferings  in  early  life,  to  the  exerc;se  of  wh;»t  the 
«'  Republicans"  at  the  south,  denominate  a  '*  Consti- 
tutional right  "  (to  wit.)  that  of  enslaving  a  por- 
tion of  their  fellow  beings  of  that  persecuted  race, 
who  are  so  unfortunate  as  to  differ  with  them  in  the 
complexion  of  their  skins — the  writer  begs  liberty 
to  make  this  the  subject  of  his  closing  remarks. 

Our  forefathers,  persecuted  and  hunted  from  their 
native  land,  committed  themselves  to  the  bosom  of 
the  deep,  choosing  to  associate  with  the  monsters  of 
the  ocean,  and  to  wander  at  large  amid  storms  and 
tempests  ;  rather  than  sacrifice  their  religion  and 
liberties  to  the  inquisition  of  an  inexorable  tyrant, 
Guided  by  heaven  to  these  solitary  shores,  nature 
received  them  with  open  arms  and  joyfully  pressed 
them  to  her  rugged  breast.  By  their  toils  and  per- 
severance, by  that  virtue  derived  from  pure  religion, 
and  that  industry  inspired  by  liberty,  they  rapidly 
increased  to  a  degree  of  population  and  opulence 
which  commanded  national  respectability — and  happy 
should  we  be  could  we  here  add,  that  such  were  the 
principles  that  continued  not  only  to  govern  them  to 
the  last,  but  the  generation  that  succeeded  them — - 
But,  alas  !  it  is  truth  too  firmly  established,  that  they, 
'ere  the  elapse  of  many  years,  as  if  forgetful  of  their 
own  persecutions,  became  in  their  turn  the  perse- 
cutors vind  oppressors  of  a  portion  of  their  unoffend- 
ing fellow  beings !  -kidnapping  and  consigning  to 
slavery  the  free  born  sons  of  Africa,  soon  became  a 
traffic,  in  which  some  of  almost  every  state  in  the 
anion  were  engaged — and   which   was   attended  in 


32  LIVE  AND  ADVENTUKES  OF 

many  instances  with  acts  of  the  most  cruel  barbarity^ 
—for  no  other  fault  or  crime  than  that  of  being  bom 
black,  in  an  unsuspecting  moment  they  were  seized, 
forced  from  their  own  country,  conveyed  to  this, 
where  husbands  and  wives,  parents  and  children, 
were  seperated  with  as  much  unconcern  as  sheep 
and  lambs  by  the.  butcher,  and  with  the  same  indif- 
ference disposed  of  to  the  highest  bidders  S — and  in 
bondage  were  for  the  most  trivial  '  ffences  made  the 
subjects  of  torture  and  punishments  to  a  degree  that 
would  cause  humanity  to  recoil  at  a  bear  recital* 
But  to  the  great  honour  of  the  sons  of  New-England, 
be  it  mentioned,  that  they  soon  became  sensible  of 
the  wickedness  of  this  abominable  traffic,  and  a  strict 
prohibition  was  the  consequence — an  example  of  hu- 
manity, which  was  soon  followed  by  the  middle 
states,  and  in  which  at  the  present  day  we  believe 
slavery  has  become  totally  extinct. 

But,  not  so  with  those  who  inhabit  the  southern 
section  of  our  country,  who,  governed  more  hy  prin- 
ciples of  self  interest,  thin  of  humanity,  at  the  pre- 
sent day  feast  upon  tie.  fruits  of  the  toils ,  of  thou- 
sands of  their  enslaved  fellow  beings— and  by  whom 
in  some  instances,  they  are  treated  .vithless  humanity 
than  what  the  beasts  of  the  field  receive  !  These 
(or  a  portion  of  them)  are  those  who  profess  to  be 
the  zealous  advocates  of  the  u  rights  of  man  !"  and 
the  professed  admirers  of  that  admirable  production 
of  human  wisdom,  the  Declaration  of  Independence, 
wherein  if  is  proclaimed  that  k'  all  men  are  bom 
f*iee  and  equal  !  * 

*'!  would  not  have  a  slave  to  till  mv  ground, 

To  carry  roe,  to  fan  me  while  I  sleep, 

And  tremble  when  I   vae  e,  for  all  the  wealth 

That  sinews,  bought  and  soM,  have  ever  earn'dk 

No  —dear  as  freedom  is,  and  m  m    heart's 

Just  estimation  prised  above  all  prieej 

1  had  much  rathe*   be  myself  a  slave, 

And  wear  the  bonds,  than  faston  them  on  him.** 


ROBERT  THE  HERMIT.  3# 

The  heart  would  sicken  at  the  recital  of  the 
punishments  inflicted  upon  and  the  extreme  sufferings 
of  the  unhappy  slaves  of  the  south — indeed  so  goard- 
ing  is  the  yoke  of  bondage,  that  while  some  are  driv- 
en to  the  desperate  act  of  not  only  destroying  their 
own  lives,  but  that  of  their  wretched  offspring — oth» 
ers  seek  to  obtain  their  freedom  by  secreting  them- 
selves in  thick  swamps  and  marshes  ;  where  they  re- 
main concealed  until  they  either  fall  victims  to,  or 
are  compelled  by  hunger  to  return  again  to  their 
masters,  and  submit  to  the  punishment  which  those 
unfeeling  wretches  deem  the  merited  reward  of  their 
disobedience  !  A  remarkable  instance  of  the  latter, 
occurred  in  the  State  of  North  Carolina  about  14 
years  ago,  and  although  the  particulars  appeared  in 
many  of  our  public  prints,  at  that  time,  yet  as  they 
may  have  escaped  the  notice  of  many  of  our  readers, 
we  have  thought  that  it  would  not  be  improper  to  re- 
publish them-  they  are  from  the  pen  of  a  respecta- 
ble gem,.  ian  of  Petersburg!*,  communicated  to  his 
friend  in  New-York.— they  follow  ; 

"  While  I  resided  in  Newbern,  N.C.  in  1814,  be- 
ing informed  that  a  Negro  woman  and  two  small 
children,  had  been  that  day  brought  in.  who  had  been 
runaways  for  several  years,  I  felt  a  wish  to  go  and 
see  them  particularly  as  there  was  something  curi- 
ous connected  with  their  history.  My  friend  ac- 
compained  me  to  the  jai!,  for  they  had  been  lodged 
there  for  safe  keeping.  —We  there  learned  the  par* 
ticulars  of  the  life  which  they  lived,  or  rather  the 
miserable  existence  which  they  dragged  out,  during 
the  seven  year9  which  they  had  spent  in  the  swamps^ 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Newbern. 

The  owner  of  this  woman,  about  seven  years  pre- 
viously, removed  to  the  western  country,  and  car- 
tied  with  him  all  his  slaves,  except  this  woman 
&M)  an  infant  girl,  then  in  the  arms  of  its  mother^ 


Si         LIVE  AND  ADVENTURES  "&F 

who,  rather  than  be  separated  from  her  husband, 
who  was  owned  by  another  person,  timely  eloped 
with  her  child,  and  completely  avoided  the  vigi- 
lance of  her   pursuers. 

Those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  lower  sec- 
tion of  that  state,  well  know  that  it  abounds  in 
marshes  and  fens  over  grown  with  weeds,  and  in- 
terspersed, in' some  places  with  clumps  of  pine 
trees.  In  one  of  those  dreary  retreats  this  woman 
found  means  to  conceal  herself  for  the  space  of 
seven  years  :  and  to  find  means  also  for  her  sub- 
sistence, partly  by  her  own  exertions  and  the  as- 
sistance of  her  husband,  who  would  occasionally 
make  her  a  visit.  Living  in  this  situation,  she  soop 
had  an  additional  burthen  upon  her  hands  by  the 
feirth  of  another  child. 

The  manner  in  which  she  concealed  herself 
as  well  as  her  children  from  the  discovery,  was 
truly  singular.  By  the  strictest  discipline  she  pre- 
vented tbem  ever  crying  aloud  ;  she  compelled  them 
to  stifle  their  little  cries  and  complaints,  though 
urged  to  it  by  pinching  hunger,  or  the  severest 
*old.  She  prohibited  them  from  speaking  louder 
than  a  uhisper.  This  may  appear  strange  to  ref- 
late, but it  is  certainly  true;  and  as  a  proof  that 
bo  deception  was  used  in  this  case  it  was  satisfae- 
torily  ascertained,  that  after  they  had  remained  in 
town  for  more  than  a  month,  in  the  company  of 
children  who  were  noisy  and  clamorous,  they  were 
sot  known  in  a  single  instance  to  raise  their  voices 
higher  than  a  soft  whisper.  At  first,  it  was  with 
great  difficulty  that  they  could  stand  or  walk  erect, 
and  when  they  did  attempt  to  walk,  it  was  with 
a  low  stoop,  the  bust  inclining  forward,  and  with 
a  hasty  step  like  a  patridge.  But  their  favorite 
position  was  that  of  squatting  upon  their  hams< 
.lh  this  posture,   they  could  remain  for  hours  wkfc 


KOBE-RT  THE  HERMIT.  35 

Oilt  any  apparent  weariness,  and  at  a  given  signal 
would  move  one  after  the  other  with  great  facility, 
anrl  at  the  same  time  with  so  much  caution,  that 
not  the  least  noise  could  be  heard  by  their  footsteps-. 

Their  method  for  subsistence  'was  the  most  ex- 
traordinary ;  sometimes  the  husband,  according  to 
the  woman's  account  would  fail  to  bring  them  sup- 
plies ;  and  whether  the  fear  of  detection  prevented 
her  from  intruding  on  the  rights  of  others,  or  wheth- 
er she  was  prevented  by  conscientious  motives  is 
not  for  me  to  determine — but  in  this  dreadful  ex- 
igence, she  would,  for  the  support  of  herself  and 
children,  have  recourse  to  expedients  which  nothing 
but  the  most  pressing  necessity  could  ever  suggest. 

Frogs  and  terrapins  were  considered  as  rare  dain- 
ties, and  even  snakes  would  be  taken  ;>s  a  lawful 
prize  to  satisfy  the  calls  of  hunger. — ft  was  the 
ouslom,  said  the  woman  in  the  little  family,  when 
they  >.;ade  up  a  fire  in  the  night,  and  this  was  done 
only  m  the  cold  nights  of  tvinter»  for  one  to  sit 
up.  while  the  others  slept.  The  one  who  watched 
had  a  double  duty  to  perform — not  only  to  do  the 
ordinary  duty  of  a  centinel,  but  to  watch  for  mice  ; 
which  they  contrived  in  the  following  manner.  The 
person  watching,  would  spread  a  little  meat  on  the 
ground,  or  a  few  grains  of  corn  or  peas,  or  for 
want  of  the^e,  a  crust  of  bread  when  they  had  it ; 
over  which  an  old  handkerchief  or  piece  of  cloth, 
was  spread,  then  observing  a  profound  and  death, 
like  silence,  the  mice  would  creep  from  their  re- 
treats in  order  to  possess  themselves  of  the  bait. 
■—The  centinel,  true  to  his  post,  as  soon  as  the 
cloth  was  moved  by  the  vagrant  mouse,  would 
very  dexteriously  smack  down  a  pair  of  hands  up- 
on him,  and  secure  him  for  purposes  yet  to  be 
mentioned.  The  flesh,  as  may  be  supposed,  wae 
*s$ed  for  food,  which  they  devoured  with  as  little 


$6         LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

eeremony  as  a  boy  would  eat  a  snow  bird  ;  but  e- 
ven  the  skin  was  not  thrown  away  :  for  they  being 
earefully  preserved,  the  hair  or  fur  was  picked  off* 
and  mixed  with  wool  or  cotton  for  the  purpose  of 
making  gloves  and  stockings— and  they  managed  to 
spin  up  the  materials  they  could  procure*  by  meant 
of  a  stick  about  six  or  eight  inches  in  length. 
— This  was  held  in  the  left  hand,  while,  with  the 
right,  they  held  the  materials  to  be  spun,  they  gave 
us  a  specimen  of  their  adroitness  in  this  art  ;  and 
the  little  boy,  who  was  not  above  five  years  old, 
couid  manage  his  stick  with  surprising  dexterity, 
—■Several  pair  of  stockings  and  gloves  were  shown, 
which  had  been  knit  by  these  singular  beings,  du- 
ring their  voluntary  banishment. — They  were  grotes- 
que enough  in  their  appearance,  and  were  made 
up  of  a  greater  medly  of  materials  than  are  general- 
ly used   in  the  civilized   world. 

How  much  longer  this  deluded  African,  witU 
her  two  wretched  children  would  have  remained 
in  the  comfortless  savannahs  of  North  Carolina^ 
is  not  known,  had  not  the  woman  been  deserted  by 
her  husband  ; — Being  deprived  of  the  solace  she 
derived  from  his  transient  visits,  and  the  scanty 
subsistence  she  received  from  his  hand,  her  situa- 
tion became  miserable  beyond  description.  At  length 
emaciated  with  hunger  she  crept  to  the  road,  gave 
herself  up  with  her  equally  meagre  looking  charge, 
to  the  first  person  she  saw,  who  happened  very 
fortunately  to  be  a  man,  with  his  cart  going  to- 
wards town — the  sight  indeed,  to  the  citizen,  was 
a  novel  one,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  number 
who  crowded  to  see  and  determine  for  themselves* 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 


THE  COLLECTION  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINIANA 


CC326.1 
T86L 


